Xavier's eyes darted between screens in the surveillance room. His empire was seriously crumbling around him, and Victor was at the center of it all.
"Sir, we need to evacuate now," the man beside urged again for the fifth time.
Xavier ignored him, transfixed by the image of Victor cutting through his defenses like they were nothing. The man moved with deadly precision, his face a mask of cold fury. Every shot found its mark. Every man who stood in his way fell.
If he wasn't coming for his head, Xavier would've been amazed.
"Sir! Please!"
Xavier finally tore his eyes away from the screen. "Get the helicopter ready. Same with the boy."
Across the mansion, Thomas pressed himself against a wall, listening intently to his radio. Victor's voice crackled through.
"Where's my son?"
Thomas
